His Passion, I Forsake
by Gauntz and Eflwyn
Summary: Inky numbers are on her hands, a call denied, a memory forgotten and resurfaced. It's up to her, to decide where this hopeless marriage is going; His passion.. Shall Elizabeta forsake his love, his greater love than his love for hers? Or is it truly love that Roderich holds for her...? And should he seek this man; One he hasn't seen in years, take it away? That's for you to find.


Everything had been going down the drain at this point... I had the man's number written on my wrist, with a simple black pen, the numbers bleeding and fading. I was going to call him. I had to, for the sake of my sanity and morale standings. The sound of the piano bled into my ears like a poison, a deadly toxic played over and over again... A poison rose to my ears and eyes. The vibrations were beautiful, making small salty tears form at the bottom of my eyes, the notes rising and falling like boiling tea being lifted. A melancholy tune, echoing my heart's desire, the gentle press of blood stained keys, and I knew his delicate fingers were scarred by his own passion. Inside the musty, dimly lit room, I could only spot the subtle glow of my cellphone, and the cold digital letters simply read; "Hey, Eli. It's Gil."

There was still music, the horrible sound seeming to bleed, and coagulate into disharmony, the keys seeming to clack audibly, as more tears streamed down my face, slightly making the plain khakis, become dotted with moisture. "I thought he had loved me. I thought he loved me. I thought he loved me." I chanted over and over again, my voice seeming to be absorbed into the attic's wooden pillars. My bed was useless, sitting still and silent, still.. unaffected by the loud music.. But it wasn't Roderich's music that drove me over the edge. It was him.

Then, the music stopped with a dull thud. "Elizabeta? Are you awake?" I heard the desperate call, his voice clear as day, yet I chose to turn away, and ignore everything... "Elizabeta..? Please.." He begged, and I still stood in the corner of the musty room, staring out of the window, letting my eyes wander among the rose bushes that lurked in the mansion's garden. Beautiful, was the first word that came to mind; A beauty that trapped me, absorbed me whole, seemed to incubate its life inside my being... A poisonous love, only meant for a brief romance, and nothing more. It was reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet, but our so-called 'love,' was short lived, and ill fated it seemed, for Roderich's love was greater emotionally than physically, and he provided neither towards me. "Elizabeta?.." Wandering voices coexisted with wandering feet, providing the necessary ingredients, that fueled the chaos and disharmony that dwelled so incessantly in my own head. The click of shoes gracefully snaked along the staircase making me shiver, and I focused my intentions on the roses.. Yes! The roses are red, like blood, shimmering in the midnight's moon like red rubies glistening in such a poetic way... I heard a knock on the trapdoor, and Roderich's dark brown hair popped up, his violet eyes staring into mine mysteriously. "Eli.. What's wrong..?" I heard him pur, as the tapping of shoes approached, getting closer, and closer. "Nothing." I managed to breath, as the feeling of being observed, seemed to encroach upon my already jaded consciousness.

"Eli.." My husband coughed slightly, signifying his existance, and I simply grunted stubbornly in response. "Come on. Tell me." His arms wrapped around me, as I felt the white fabric, and the cuffs on his long sleeved shirt, digging into the bones of my waist. "Nothing." I monotonously repeated, the words seeming to be a natural response to Roderich's words. More silence, as each pause I took seemed to have a gap that grew exponentially, with time. "God dammit, Eli. If you can't tell me what's wrong, how am I supposed to know?!" Nowadays, I had also observed that it was easy for Roderich to snap, at any moment's notice. The agression leached into the delicate tones of his music, turning it into tune of pure anger, chaos, to be violently frowned upon. The arms around my waist grew tighter, the nails digging into my flesh now, worming under my black t-shirt, as I gave a small, hushed cry. "Can't you tell me?" He nuzzled against my neck, the skin, cold and exposed, but I nodded no, tears now streaming down my eyes endlessly. "Come on, you've got to tell me." I turned around, the joints in my neck, clicking in place. "I feel fine." My lips curved awkwardly upwards as the salty escape clinged incessantly to my cheeks, turning them a deep red. "Then why are you crying?" He asked in an innocent coo, his fingers filled with callouses and skin breakages, now gently caressing the area he had plunged his fingers so forcefully into. "Ah, a bad dream that's all.." I buried my hands into my head. I wasn't lying fully; It was rather, that one could verify the situation as lying, because I failed to sufficiently provide enough valid information, to make interpretations, and to judge. "A bad dream? Don't worry, Eli. You have me right..?" Roderich combed back my hair, revealing my face in the full moon's moonlight. "Yeah." I muttered, his words seeming to be numb, without meaning.

Roderich combed his delicate, yet now rough pale fingers through my long brown hair, loose by my sides, as his other arm stayed at my hip, holding me close. His blue coat surrounded me, the cuffs bolted with golden buttons, glittering in the moonlight, blinding my eyes. "It's okay, Elizabeta.. It's okay.." He hopelessly reassured me, his arms feeling cold and dull compared to that drunken bastard's, yet I didn't know why. Artfully cold, blinding and too artificial for my own modest eyes. That was how I viewed Roderich; Perhaps our marriage was to me, deemed false, A choice chosen in the midst of chaos, where I had denied both my heart, and my rational thinking.

I had felt normal; Empty, nothing, but daily chores and daily toil. Until I met him. Him.

_I shyly walked into the dimly lit area, filled with men old and young drinking to their heart's content. There were only a few women, who represented their genderly counterparts equally; Grim, rough, red cheeked, ruddy. Filled with a spirit that could only be granted with Spirits. And drink. My eyes wandered around, desperately searching for something, someone, and I had found myself situated on the creaky, old barstools, leather padding and foam filled, swaying to the gentle beat of many unstable hearts. Like mine. _

_The man at the counter seemed to instantly recognize my awkwardity in the space, and had leaned on the side, his blonde hair gently curtaining over gently blue eyes, and smiled. "Hallo; First time drinking or something?" He asked, sounding friendly, yet still with a veil of reserved strictness. "Yes." I nodded. "Ah, first ten's on the house then. My western brew is the best. I'm Ludwig." He smiled, something I wasn't accustomed to, since I had stayed in that mansion, in a room, simply sewing and cleaning. Isolated. "Elizabeta." I said monotonously, and he flipped the tap, filling a glass with the dark substance, and combing off the foam, handing it to me. _

_"Here you go. Enjoy. Hey! Gil!" Ludwig yelled. Gil... that name was familiar.. Perhaps a cousin? A friend or a name I had forgotten.. Memories, I had forgotten, they were locked away, long ago. Gil... Gilbert.._

_The Prussian._

_"Come entertain the new one!" He yelled out. "Ja, Ja." A tired sigh, and the man named 'Gil,' or at least nicknamed, slid in the leather barstool beside mine, casually leaning until his eyes caught mine, and widened. He took my hands in his, squeezing them tight, disturbing my drink. "E-Eli?" He looked at me, with a sincere asking. "What? Who are you?.." I tried to remember.. Red eyes; As red as the moon, as red as blood..."Don't you remember me? Don't you?.. Please." He shook my hands slightly, now bunched on the bar's wooden counters. Apparently, Ludwig had noticed my discomfort, and 'Gil's' interest, yet he stood, observing. "I don't remember." I simply breathed. His eyes turned away, downcast and hurt. I knew him. Knew him well, in fact..._

_"Well, this might be the wrong person.. but if it's really you Eli.. I just wanted to say something. I..." He took a long swig of beer in the glass beside him, his cheeks turning red. I what? I what? I love you? I want to marry you? I need you? I hate you. I could take, or at least stomach any of those words, but no. He didn't say that. "I've really wanted to see you, in a long, long time." He shook my hands with each powerful word, and I pulled away, taking the glass whole. "I never knew you were a drinker, Eli." "I told you, I don't know you. That is that." I said, defiant, yet I persisted to convince myself that I did not know him; That he was a stranger, through and through. That we shared nothing, a connection severed so long ago, when false love had taken the reins of logic and reason. Denied. _

_"You got me." I raised my hands up, and he let out a chuckle. "I knew it was you." He smiled, his lips stretched so wide it seemed odd; But that was just me. "How was the years been... And Roderich." I saw his smile disappear when he himself had mentioned the name. "Fine. Roderich's fine." Alcohol loosens the tongue. And the voice. "Fine? Vwhat's so fine about being forced into a marriage by your parents." Now a snakelike grin. _

_Gilbert was always like this; Tugging at heartstrings... But he didn't mean any harm, did he?_

_"It's all fine. I love Roderich, as my companion and husband." I said, with the most business-like tone I could possess at the moment. Gilbert frowned again. "Roderich? Roddy? Roddeeerich? C'mon Eli. You're at a bar." He emphasized the word bar. "A bar. What do you think, I think is going on with you and Roderich?" He said, sounding honest and obvious; It's not all exactly my fault! I just wanted a drink, that's all. I hadn't been outside the mansion's doors in such a long time, without anyone; There was no need. Everything was provided, whether it be monetary funds or otherwise. "I think, that my husband," I took great care to emphasize husband, much to Gilbert's obvious discomfort, "And I, and our relationship, are fine. Completely. And zheir is nothing more to discuss." I stamped my foot down in more defiance._

_"Husband." He laughed, or scoffed at the word I had said with the utmost tone of professionalism. "Husband." Gilbert repeated. "Your Husband. Well, tell your husband, that he can kiss my ass for all I care. I don't care if you have Roderich." He was blunt, honest, with a hint of narcissism, but honesty is a virtue, right? I heard glass slide across the bar, and I caught the glass, taking a swig. I heard a low laugh coming from Ludwig's direction. "You. Shaddup." I slurred, and Gilbert laughed. "See. I vas right, after all. C'mon Eli. Tell me vwhat happened between you and Roddy again. I haven't met you in so long, c'mon." It seemed he was constantly, incessantly nudging my shoulder with his own, psychologically speaking. It wasn't physical but the mental presence still stood obsolete. _

_"It's okay. It's just that..." I felt somewhat uncomfortably, confronted with the instinctive need for privacy. "I'm sorry.. I pushed you too far. Are you drunk on a few glasses already?" He craned his neck to the side to examine my face, red, ruddy like all the other bar-goers, and he laughed as I nodded my head no, zealously. I took another glass just to prove him wrong, which made me now, extremely dizzy. I closed my eyes, the eyelashes stained with watery outburst now, for no apparent reason other than the tugging sensation in my chest, and felt warm, now familiar arms curled around my own. "Luddy, I'll take her home. It's Eli." "Eli?! Are you sure? I haven't seen Roderich and Eli in such a long time.." "Ja. I haven't either." I still refused to open my eyes and let reality bleach itself in my own fabric. I was being carried, as I pretended to lay lifeless and still. I was shaken in a hypnogogic state, and his eyes looked down on mine, as I was curled in his arms, walking me toward the parking lot. "Bring a car or anythin'?" I nodded no. I had walked, sneaking out through my room, the attic's window, from a rope made of rags I had accumulated over the years. I couldn't find any decent rope inside the mansion. Gilbert sighed. "Guess I'll have to take you to my place then. You fine with baggy clothes?" I decided not to answer. "Guess that's a yes." I felt my body being gently settled into a seat, a car door slamming, the smell of smoke and leather. The turn of a key, the buzz of an engine. "Sleep if you want, but my house's nearby. Just lettin' you know and all." He announced, and suddenly stepped on the gas, tires screeching across black pavement, onto the bored street. I opened my eyes then. The headlights blinded me and disorientated me, making me blink quickly. I looked at Gilbert's direction, and he seemed to turn his head away, as if he was observing my half-awake state...  
_

_In silence, Gilbert let his hands encroach upon the radio's buttons, but I caught his, and his seemed to snatch back into its own reserved area. "Silence." I whispered, and he nodded. There wasn't words, but I could tell just by staring. He was skinnier, taller, dressed casually in semi-ripped jeans and black leather boots, a black leather jacket and white hair; His usual red eyes were redder tonight, though. Red like blood on snow. Gilbert and I had associated well during our brief childhood, and only faint, but strong memories could be remembered. I remember after I had my solemn and brief marriage with the Austrian, Gilbert had stood at the seats. When their were objections to be spoken, Gilbert did not say a word. Not a single word. It was as if he was fixed in silence, by my own blinding, burning stare. As if denial had seared away pain, leaving him numb. But the worst pain, was always the numbing pain. A pain you could not feel. One that I have been feeling these few years. _

_The car suddenly stopped, the headlights, slowly fading away, and he opened my door, ushering me out. He held my arms, noticing I was teetering, slightly off balance due to the beer that Ludwig so generously gave me, and led me into the house. I couldn't see well, my legs feeling like ancient columns, and my vision blurry. "Gee." I heard his voice, and attempted to look at him, as he settled me down into a couch, and I could face him as he bent his knee. He waved his hand around my face several times before giving a small frown. He mumbled something I couldn't hear, and I was unable to move at the time. There were small popping noises, and I decided to close my eyes, gently shutting them, as I hear smaller pops, and I felt a breeze of air brush against bare arms.._

_Bare Arms?!_

_There were more popping noises, until I felt my white collared shirt being thrown into the living room's corner, and only a simple tank-top remained. Air. I opened my eyes, hazy and could see, at least, that Gilbert had some possible... Intent. I swung my arms forward, lifelessly smacking him in the face, leaving a dull thud, and he grinned. "Chill out Eli. I'm not going to do anyzhing suspicious." He grinned again. I felt warm hands feel at my chest, as I tried to push them away; But they were strong and persistent, and all I could do was delay the entire procession, by a few mere seconds. "Huh. Yours grew a shit ton." He said, making me turn red, as I had gained some feeling in my arm, and began to pull at his hair. "What?! The hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed. "Zuuhh stop. Stap. Boobehs." I managed to splurt as intelligently as I could muster._

_"Stop! Stop it! I'm just trying to let you loosen up!" He yelled again and his hand 'accidentally,' brushed upwards. "Whaf ze..." I looked down, blinking several times before I could fully absorb the complete picture. His pale fingers, were draped across the upper regions of my chest... What... Was he trying to do?!_

_"WHAT ZE HALL?!" I screamed, and Gilbert snatched his hand away. "Zhat was an accident! You're pulling my hair, and hitting me." "Vwhat am I supposed to do?!" He paused, getting up from his squat. "I'm going to sleep. Night." I reached upwards, lightly tugging at the back of his shirt. "Nuh. Cold." "Really? Eli? Is that you in there..?" I attempted to flip him the bird, but as of late, I'm thoroughly convinced that I had stuck my index finger at him, instead. He got the message though. That's the important part. "Ze hell you want?" He took my hand in his, warm, and lifted me again. We walked through the hallway, through plain white doors, as it shut behind us, and he threw me roughly onto the bed. "Gute nacht." Sheets with no distinct color but black in the darkness were thrown over me, casing me in like a coffin, and I felt the depression of the matressing near me; Wasn't Gil sleeping on the couch?_

_"Couch, you.. Couch." I giggled, for no apparent reason, but only that I wanted to. I poked his now bare back, and I felt his skin shiver. "Nein. Sleep. Nacht." He repeated. "Shaddup. Mmm Roddy's gon' be maaaad." I laughed this time. "Roderich? What about that douche?" He still had the habit of badmouthing the Austrian... Still._

_"Mm... Gonna yell at me! Mad at me when I go..." I slurred. Gilbert turned around, and I felt his eyes on mine. "Mad? Why would he be mad...?" He slightly paused, waiting for a silent answer. I giggled more, instead. "Doesn't vant me to go." I mumbled, under my breath. He doesn't want me to go; He never wants me to leave his side. After the first year, I had figured out this wasn't love.. It was... something odder; Darker, Deeper. "Go? Where would you go..?" I heard him mutter, and his hands made his way toward my elbow, then my stomach; Maybe an awkward and half-hearted attempt at embracement. I closed my eyelids, watery now, as warmth and bar sweat surrounded me in its sickly sweet and bitter scent.. Gilbert.. Gilbert.. _

_The Prussian._

_He was back._

_Something I hoped, would never happen, would never disturb my idle life, my daily toil._

I open my eyes again. Roderich was still there, trying to assure me 'everything was okay.' No, it was not 'okay.' Stereotypically 'okay' that is. The logistics of the Austrian Man's 'OK' dealt with if I wasn't crying; If I wasn't crying, if there weren't any scars; Any visible signs, physically speaking, I was okay. Nothing is ever okay in this god forsaken house. Nothing. It is empty, spare few noises I hear occasionally, a desperate silence; Sometimes the Italian, Feliciano we had somewhat raised together visited, but that was rare. A majority of my time was spent alone, or amidst that damned piano that Roderich simply adored. "Better now?" Roderich whispered, the dark brown hair tousling over his face. "Yes." I nodded, looking away while distressingly wiping tears off of a burning, salty cheek. I had my hands hidden, so my husband wouldn't find the inky numbers; Luckily, they were still legible, and as I heard the footsteps in the darkness step away, vibrating through the wood like a piano's keys, the shut of a door, I began to rapidly type in the numbers. The makeshift rope consisting of old, tattered and now barely used rags lay safely under my bed; I had snuck in that night, rising from Gilbert's arms, and managed to find my way back after wandering for several hours. It was 4 in the morning. I had also awoken to find the numbers on my hand.

The buzz of the phone and the cracking of the speakers bounced off the wooden beams that lifelessly supported the attic's roofing. No answer. I gave a sigh, and lifted my legs up slowly, still in a semi-drunken state after returning home and spewing my dinner's contents, standing under the dull thud of water, then attempting to fall asleep... I looked through my drawers, finding light bluish pills. Sleeping pills. Maybe they'd work. I had no idea what brand they were, but I happened to find them in the Medical Cabinet several floors down; We had some servants but they always seemed to remain there. I wandered there, sometimes when life seemed more dull than usual, like a ghost; Usually at night, which often terrified the few servants, and maids that lived down there. Perhaps it was because I was unusually pale, in the dull yellow light, dressed in a pale white night gown, bloodshot eyes, and such that would usually constitute your stereotypical ghost or banshee. Whatever you call it.

I took the pill, swallowing it without a glass of water, forcing it down my throat, and within several minutes placebo took full effect. Eyes closed, I slept for possibly four hours, that night. The only dream I had remembered was purely darkness; I've heard someone say, once, that if you didn't dream, you aren't happy. That you had nothing to live for except tomorrow, waking up, beginning again... Nothing.

I opened my eyes, this time, unwillingly, again. There was more sun, since I had forgotten to open the window, and a small yellow bird was perched happily on my head, the semi-sharp claws, somewhat clipped, on my forehead. "Hey! Gilbird!" A voice called out, from the rose garden. Gilbird? I thought that thing died a long, long time ago. Apparently it's not dead. "What the hell?" I called out. The voice I heard down in the gardens was familiar.. very familiar... I immediately awoke, as the bird jumped away from my face and I swatted it away, while gazing out of the window... Gott Verdammt.. Who was it?..

* * *

_OK. So, I've been working on this, little by little every day... Yeah. Yup._


End file.
